The Shock of the Nude...

When the sun shines I can't keep inside the flat. It's different when I am at home I can wander between the kitchen and magnolia tree, here I feel I have to get out into the air. Down fourteen steps, out into the street and over into the sunshine by the river.

I walked back from the Beeb, through St. James Park, and every last daffodill had died. My only floral compensation is on the embankment by Royal Hospital Road. In between the corporate tulips, yellow and pink, there are some tall orange flowers with grassy shoots coming out of the top. I have never seen the like. I need to walk to them and take a closer look.

I met up with my brother, his son and my daughter at Ronnie Scotts on Sunday night. Jamoke's evening of the spoken word and jazz.

We stayed until the last song and then ventured out into the cold night. I could not remember where I had left the car still thinking about a song sung by a very old woman about the scars we all have from living a life.

Monday was the beginning of my week looking after Simba my neighbours dog. Simba is a lovely labrador, he is so like Jackson that when the 'oosbind turned up Simba barked and I heard myself saying 'Jackson ssh!'....
Simba doesn't like people hugging, Gods Gift hugged me Simba barked. Gods Gift hugged the daughter Simba barked. The 'oosbind hugged me again , just as a test you understand, Simba barked a lot, he is a very efficient contraceptive.

Poor old Simba can't walk very well and sleeps at my feet. Today he couldn't easily follow me around so I left his basket in the hallway I had to step over him. that way he knew where I was at all times. He is lovely.

Last night I met up with The Barry briefly at The Phoenix. He bought me a mug of hot water and a bowl of nuts, the high life eh?

Then I bought a 'I heart London' umbrella for £2.99 to keep the sharp needles of cold rain off my thin jacket and thick skin.
My friend was taking me to see Les Miserables for my birthday treat. The tickets were so expensive they could have fed and clothed a family of eight.

I thought I would take her for a pre-theatre cuppa at Groucho's my fave theatrical haunt. Down Dean Street and into the foyer. I asked for Bernie Katz, the boss, who always hugs me and reminds me that I probably look like his dead aunts.

"Darling" he shrieked, as he threw his arms around me, "Would you pose naked for me?"

He dragged me down to the ladies cloakroom and showed me a series of pictures of naked men discreetly covered up.

'It's for an Autistic charity. Would you take your clothes off, á la Calender Girls, and pose for the Autistic Society?'

Nobody can refuse Bernie. I'm still waiting for him to give me the photographers details so I can buy a stocking for the lens, a tub of vaseline to make the pictures look soft focus and the photographers tel. number so I can bribe him into air brushing every last cranny of me, not to mention the nooks, and procure a furry throw to throw over my naked form.

The shoot is on Star Wars Day. May the Fourth be with me....

We were given a free pot of tea by way of compensation for the shock of the nude....

Les Mis was Tres Mis. I didn't like it. My friend didn't like it. I know I must be the only person in the universe who didn't like it. But all the voices sounded exactly the same, with that stage school wobble, the sets were more inventive than the ensemble and the songs about as passionate as a poached halibut on a bed of sloppy white rice. The female lead made Subo sound like Dame Kiri Tekanawanwaknwakeunnilingus.

The Number 19 bus got us home in double quick time, which was a credit to the driver, he must have known that we were cold, tired and in need of a hot cup of camomile tea.

Jim is directing Bonnie Oddie in her piece which you can see at JACKSONS LANE ARTS CENTRE in HIGHGATE on 27th and 28th of this month. So he left early this morning. I am only doing yoga three times a week, on the recommendation of M. James Bibby my martially artistic osteopath, so this morning I had a sabbatical.

I had my first session yesterday, stayed in the back row, near the door for air, and slowly managed all the postures. It was so good to be back.

So the friend who overpaid for LESMIS and over stayed the night, took me out for breakfast. She had smoked salmon and scrambled eggs with a latte. I had walnut and raisin bread toasted with a dry cappucinno. Well it was wet actually with only a little froth which is what makes a wet coffee dry apparently.

She left at lunchtime and I took Simba for a ten minute shuffle. Then it was back to the flat for nibbles whilst I started writing my first after dinner speech. When God's Gift told me I was a late starter, since all my contemporaries have been doing it for years, I needed to take a remedy so that I didn't plunge into the depression of the overaged.

Have you discovered chia seeds yet? Patrick Holford introduced them to me on the Sunday show. I soak them in coconut water over night and then its like eating frog spawn. Full of omega oils and bulk for the appetite, very good for you and the easiest thing to eat. I ran out of coconut water so we walked to the off license and bought four little bottles of organic lemonade. The lemonade tastes horrible and the bubbles have suspended the seeds. God knows what the Chia seeds will taste like tomorrow.

I'll buy some coconut water on the way back from Bikram tomorrer.

I went into Waitrose in Balham, yesterday, the check out girl was beautiful and added up my bits cos I only had fifteen quid on me.

"I understand" she said. "Why do you think I'm working here in my Easter holidays. I'm a teacher but I cant make ends meet."

Thank you Mr.Cameron and Mr.Clegg for honouring our educationalists.

It's 1.18 now. Lozzie is asleep. The old gits asleep and I have about as much sleep in me as a five year old who wants to get down on their new train set....do they even have them any more?

Should I have said wifispacestationwmagochya?

It's late and I want to go to bed so TTFN and may your dreams be pleasant ones.